


the reiteration of us

by MQ1693



Series: Works for others [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Cat and Mouse Games, Dysfunctional Relationships, Elijah Kamski Being an Asshole, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MQ1693/pseuds/MQ1693
Summary: "Through the years you and me, always together, never apart- not even when I wanted to."Gavin and Elijah meet by chance in 2022, beginning a story together that seems to have no end in sight, for Gavin's horror- and pleasure. This game of cat and mouse seems to have no end and no clear hunter- just the two of them, together, forever.





	1. our first time together

The operating theater is unbearably bright.

That’s what Elijah Kamski, man of the year, calls the room they are in. Operating theater, as if the things that he did could somehow manage to hold a little bit more of drama to them and also, somehow, belonged in a different place than his ridiculous high tech two floor suite in the apartment he lives in. 

Really. What a guy.

It’s cold inside, because his delicate creations and the substances needed to run them are best preserved at a below room temperature while being worked on— and white, like Gavin imagines an actual operating room to be. It’s also bright, because stupidly bright light is needed for all the incredibly detailed work that the guy does there.

Honestly, fuck him.

If Gavin Reed knew a couple of years ago that becoming a cop would eventually mean that he would have to be part of a city issued security detail while completely hungover and bored out of his mind looking over a billionaire weirdo that is too full of himself, well—he probably would have thought about it a bit more. He would’ve thought about it, pondering the pros and the cons, the “whys” and the “hows” and he would’ve said no, no thanks.

But as life often likes to prove to him, he’s on this earth to suffer, and suffering in this particular month means having _I’m-too-smart-for-you_ Elijah Kamski either ignoring or looking down on the officers of the DPD that have been tasked with looking after him.

To be fair to him, Gavin ridiculously thinks, Kamski does not need them. He does not need them one bit. Not with his ridiculously expensive security system and ridiculously expensive security team of his own, but—no. No, the mayor had to insist, because some dumb ass who really hates progress decided to send a couple dozen death threats Kamski’s way and he really didn’t want to have this century’s da Vinci dead in his town.

So, Gavin stands in that unbearably bright room, not caring one bit if the guy actually bites the dust or not, artificial light burning his eyes and feet going sore in his cheap shoes because Leonardo there wanted to settle his industry in Detroit of all places.

It’s fine, he wants to think, it’s nothing, but it’s not. It’s not, because Kamski is elbow deep inside the open torso of what he knows to be a Chloe _—the_ Chloe, that very much human looking thing— tinkering here and there while she, of all things, is talking to him like nothing is very much wrong with that situation.

It’s disgusting. His fellow policemen couldn’t possibly be more excited about getting to spend time standing close to a self-entitled rich asshole working on the next big thing, but Gavin?

He can barely focus on the faded glint of his own shoes as he tries to drone out the soft voice that recites out of her perfect memory something that Emily Dickinson wrote. Gavin wouldn’t know for shit who actually wrote it, but Chloe made sure to state the name of the writer and the year the work was created on before going on and on on her very softly spoken narration. 

Gavin hates it.

“Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves… Ah. Elijah?” Chloe calls after a few minutes, hours, god knows how long. Her voice is unbearably soft. Gavin would rather it be mechanical, just like the insides that he can see of her. Just like the reminder of the thing that she actually is. “Elijah, we’re making our guest uncomfortable.”

Gavin scoffs at the same time that Kamski does and that somehow makes him bristle. How fucking dare he?

“Then he can wait outside,” Kamski replies in stride, hands momentarily leaving her insides so he can wipe them down and remove the elbow long gloves. “Since he’s no help.” 

Chloe makes a noise, a considering hum just as Gavin takes a step forward, legs cramped with how long he’s been standing at attention. 

“I’d love to, sunshine,” he bites, a bit offended that he’s considered no more than the help to a guy like that, but truly, what did he expect? “-but we under no circumstances can leave you alone, haven’t you gotten that already? Jesus. It’s not like we want to be here.”

“It seems to me,” Kamski stands up as he begins talking, ready to give some big speech, and… Gavin can only think that he expected him to be taller. Untouchable, perfect, like the god that everyone makes him out to be. Instead he’s no taller than he is, and pale like he’s never been outside for more than five seconds at the time. And he smells. He smells of copper —just like the entire room does— of blood but stronger, a chemical smell so deep that it immediately lodges itself deep in Gavin’s sinuses and refuses to relent as the thick gore like substance that coats the android’s delicate innards drips onto the metallic table.

Plip, plip, plip.

Gavin turns up his nose. Gross.

“It seems to me,” Kamski repeats once it’s clear that Gavin wasn’t paying attention, stepping forward. “That neither party wants the other here, so let’s just… stay quiet,” he says as if he’s speaking to a stubborn child, “-and each mind our own business. How about that? I’m sure you have serious business to attend to— Facebook, or something like that? There you go.”

Gavin thinks of stepping forward himself, getting himself up in all of Kamski’s space and shove his snobbish idiocy where it would fit, but that would be difficult to explain to the Chief, now would it? Fuck. 

“Very well,” he bites back, because his tone can’t be policed as much as his actions, “if someone comes and gets you, do try to not make as much noise as you go, alright? Since I’ll be so busy with, you know, Facebook.” 

Kamski looks at him, considering him, and for a second Gavin thinks of one of those big predators, those giant cats that like to play with their prey first. Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, maybe now he’s fu-

“I like you,” Kamski says, apropos of nothing. “You’re not scared of me. I’ll let the Chief of the police know that I’ll be expecting you here more often than the rest of the… rabble.”

Shit. 

Shit. Now he’s done it. He’s fucked.

He goes home late that night, defeated, and no matter what he does to prevent it, Elijah Kamski and his work follow him home, the images of the weird things he saw seared in his brain, the smell of the chemicals still burning in his nose.

‘You just need to stand him for a little while’, he tells himself. ‘Just for a little while and then things will go back to normal.’

He couldn’t have been more wrong.


	2. the first of many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamski's more attentive than what Gavin would like. He likes it anyway.

It’s five in the morning and Gavin is disgusted with himself— with his life decisions, with the ridiculous hours he has to keep; disgusted with the boner he got while dreaming of Kamski and his clever fingers moving inside him. Moving just like they did with the— the thing from yesterday. That Chloe.

It had started as a regular dream, a conversation with the man who barely paid him any mind. He doesn’t remember the specifics, but he does remember his hands, cold and clever, pushing him against the metal table, the same one where he had the android open.

He remembers his voice, low and intense, telling him that he was going to open him too, only in a different way. Gavin remembers begging him, he remembers being wanton and shivering when Kamski’s cold fingers found their way under his shirt, under the hem of his pants and then pulling all of his clothes off, leaving him bare and exposed.

Gavin had liked it. He had shivered and he had _loved_ it.

Kamski, indeed, got him open with cold, precise fingers and a serious, focused stare. His attention had made him writhe, made him beg and then unmade him when he was finally done with him, when he was nice and wet and ready for him to use.

Because that’s what he was for Kamski; just another toy to experiment with, another thing to crack open and figure out how it works before throwing it away.

He was hot, hot, hot inside of him. Big and burning hot.

Gavin wakes up disgusted with himself.

Of all the people he could dream with, of all the people for him to have a wet dream of— why Kamski? He was a douchebag. A complete and absolute alien. A creepy man that somehow got the lotto on brilliance and that now looks down on everyone.

Well— It’s not like Gavin doesn’t like that, precisely. The whole looking down on people, of course, not the creepy side. It’s a thing of his, but that’s his own business. Still. It’s terrible. It’s terrible to wake up trembling and needy, desperate for some release that he hadn’t achieved in his sleep.

He wonders which is worse as he sighs at how warm his own hand feels against his erection. It truly, truly is disgusting, he tells himself. Terrible.

It’s awful how good it feels to gather all the precum that soaked his boxers and use it to make his grasp be smoother against himself. Terrible. Awful. 

Fuck.

No, yeah. It’s awful.

Nah.

Yeah.

Maybe not, his sex addled mind provides. Maybe not. Because what’s the damage, right? He sighs, a bit (completely, shamefully) defeated, hand lazily going up and down his cock. What’s the damage? It’s not like he’s going to tell him or the guy is going to magically find out. It’s fine. Everyone gets weird boners for weird people every once in a while, and there’s definitely no damage in relieving himself from it, nope, no sir.

Unless.

Unless he can somehow tell. Like, his machine. Or Kamski himself, the weird fuck. He forces his own hand to stop as he groans. No, nope. Fuck this. This is undignified and below him— he’s _not_ going to jack it to a man that he barely knows and is on top of it his assignment for work. 

N o p e.

‘You know what’s dignified?’ He tells himself. ‘A shower at five in the morning. Yeah. That’s dignified. Totally. And it’s super not because of this boner. Yup.’

He gets up, almost trips on the clothes he left on the floor the night before, and uncomfortably walks to his bathroom.

He makes it a very cold shower.

* * *

It’s seven in the morning and he’s already tired by the time he arrives to Kamski’s place to relieve the poor idiot that was left on the night shift. Martin, the cop, looks tired and defeated, and Kamski looks as if he hasn’t moved, or stopped working, or stopped giving shit to the poor man the entire time.

Gavin pats the man on the back as he leaves, and takes his post by the door, staring at the half man half otherworldly alien who is staring at him. He looks exactly as he did the day before— same clothes, hair exactly the same, as if he hadn’t left the room to rest or to be a human being.

“Finally,” Kamski says with something that sounds similar to delight in his voice. “Someone else than _that_ man.” 

The excitement in his voice is rather unsettling.

At least it’s better now in the room, surprisingly not as cold anymore. And Kamski’s hands, thankfully, are no longer covered in gore. Instead he sits on his desk, several computer screens in front of him showing what appears to be some sort of code. It’s not like Gavin would know, anyways.

He’s not looking at him, so Gavin peers inside, hands on the pockets of his pants, before walking in.

At least today Chloe is nowhere to be seen. She… didn’t quite work for him, after seeing her open like that. Her face, however human it looked, was only a disguise for a very clever machine.

“You guys had a bit of a bitch fight or what? It’s tense here,” Gavin says as a greeting. And it’s true— one could cut the leftover tension with a knife. It’s rather rude, but he doesn’t really bother with politeness or pleasantries, because he knows that Kamski doesn’t either. Not when he’s working, as he’s proved the day before.

“He wasn’t very bright. It was terribly dull.”

“Ah.” 

“I let him know.”

“And?”

“That offended him.”

“Oh, my. I wonder why.”

Kamski makes a sound, a huff that may or may not be a laugh. “They’re all very… boring.”

“They?”

“At least you have the guts to talk to me,” he nonchalantly adds. “Most of them are just,” he moves one of his hands in the air, dismissive, “scared children.”

“I’m pretty sure most of those _children_ are older than us.” Gavin leans against the closest wall, arms crossed but mostly relaxed. Having Kamski talk to him makes him more human, and it’s not so terribly bad, not as bad as he had thought, even when he’s exhausted and still reeling from the dream he’s _just_ had.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Right, I forgot that super smart people are given a free pass so they don’t respect their elders.” Gavin quips, not caring one bit if he respected them or not. It’s not like he did, either.

“You don’t seem like the kind to respect them, either,” Kamski fires back, swinging around in his chair as he finally deigns himself to look at him. His eyes are intense, and Gavin thinks ‘ _finally’._ He doesn’t know why he thinks that, but Kamski is finally looking at him, eyes boring a hole in him, and he finds that he _likes_ it. “You look like a _brat._ ”

A brat? Fuck. A shiver runs up his back. He _is_ a brat, but Kamski’s not supposed to know, and his mind immediately redirects him to the dream he had, and yeah— it’s the truth. He’s bratty in bed. He’s a fucking brat and he begs that his cheeks don’t betray him, even though they feel hot.

Kamski probably doesn’t mean that kind of brat, anyways. Probably.

“And?”

“It’s entertaining.” 

“I’m glad to be of service,” Gavin says, pretending to sound a bit irritated so he doesn’t irradiate the horniness he is _definitely_ feeling right there.

“That’s what you are, anyways. Service,” Kamski easily replies, a smile on his face, his eyes still focused on him, “except when you’re bored and on Facebook. Then you’re of no use.”

_That_ gets a reaction out of Gavin. He makes a sound as he’s caught by surprise— those words sound filthy in his mouth, with his voice. It’s even worse with the stare that he’s getting. Predatorial, again, like he’s going to eat him whole with just a few words.

‘ _I’m fucked,’_ Gavin thinks. ‘ _Fuck me, I’m fucked. I’m not making it through this unscathed.’_

“Huh,” Kamski says as he gets up. He walks towards him, barefoot, and Gavin realizes he’s just a bit taller than Kamski. What a thing to think, as the man stalks him. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Wh-what?” Gavin stammers, cheeks now definitely hot. He feels hot all over, pried open like he did in his dream, all because of the way that Kamski looks at him. 

“You liked being called a brat,” Kamski provides as if it’s nothing, “being called _service._ ”

Fuck.

Fuck, he knows. Gavin swallows, breath stuttering. He’s working. This shouldn’t be happening, and he definitely he shouldn’t be liking it. He should be putting a stop to this. Yes. That’s the professional thing to do. Because he’s a cop. And cops are professional. Cops do not think of getting fucked by the people they’re sworn to protect. Nope.

“Yes,” he says instead, because he’s a fucking dumbass, ruled by the boner he’s getting. “So what?”

“Bratty.”

Kamski is really close. “Isn’t this the part where you tell me to fuck off, let me do my job—or go die for all I care?”

“Yeah,” Gavin stands a little bit taller to feel like he’s in control, like he’s the cop he’s supposed to be. It doesn’t help. “Kindly fuck off and let me do my job.”

Kamski is close enough to touch. Gavin swallows again, feeling completely out of control. That’s Kamski’s intention— he can see it in his eyes, in the way that he smiles when Gavin trembles just a tiny bit as he steps a little bit closer. Close enough to kiss.

He thinks of headbutting him and ruining his career as a cop.

“But I like you,” Kamski says. “Didn’t I say that to you earlier?”

“You did,” Gavin breathes, doing his best to keep the eye contact. He won’t back down, and he won’t do whatever Kamski wants him to do. 

“And I want you,” Kamski continues like it’s nothing, “didn’t I say that as well?”

“Ye-yes. You did.” Not with the exact same words, but he had. Gavin hadn’t- he hadn’t thought it was like _this_. “Are we talking about what I think we are?”

Kamski clicks his tongue in disdain, raising his hand to cradle the side of Gavin’s jaw. He’s surprisingly warm and alive. Not alien at all. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I thought you knew how to talk to people,” Gavin tries, fighting his urge to lean towards that warmth, fighting the urge to fight him and get as far away from him as possible. It’s conflicting and he likes it, and he hates that he likes it so much.

“We _are_ talking about what you think we are,” Kamski says simply, hand moving upwards to caress his cheek and further up to run his fingers through his hair. “Just in case you haven’t caught on to it.”

Gavin’s heart stutters in his chest. He’s never been this horny in his life. Kamski grips him by the hair, testing him. Gavin lets him, and that’s all that he seems to need to push him down to his knees. “Then be _of service._ ” 

Gavin goes easily. He’s shaking, and Kamski’s hand on his hair doesn’t relent, keeping him there in place, making him look at how hard he is through his sweatpants. Gavin wants to lean in and nuzzle it, feel it against his face through the fabric.

“Fuck you,” he spits, and leans forward to do exactly what he wanted. It feels warm and nice, the fabric soft and Kamski hard underneath it, so hot that Gavin can feel him through it. It’s fucking perfect. Kamski holds him there, encouraging, and Gavin opens his mouth wide to run it up and down his shaft, mouthing the fabric.

“Maybe I’ll do that to you later,” Kamski replies nonchalant and unaffected.

Gavin wants to ruin him. Wants to see him undone, his smirk off his face and as disheveled as he feels right now— wants to see him human and fragile, broken, undone. He continues mouthing him, going up and down and then up again until he reaches the hem of his pants, his greedy hands holding it as he looks up to look at Kamski, running his wet tongue over his lips before pulling down his pants and underwear enough to free his erection.

He had touched him, but he hadn’t truly realized how big he was, how thick and heavy— how nicely his cock curved slightly down, made to be sucked on and go down his throat. The thought of it makes him shiver and salivate. The tip of Kamski’s cock is drooling, wet and perfect, and Gavin moves to lick him clean, leaving a string of saliva between the still drooling head and his lips, not giving a fuck about asking for a condom— he wouldn’t be able to wait long enough to get one anyways, not with this right in front of him.

Elijah sighs slightly, and that’s all the encouragement that Gavin needs to continue. He holds him up with one hand, tongue running upwards from the start of his cock until he reaches the engorged head, up and down again and again until he’s nice and wet.

Kamski’s other hand touches his face and with his fingers he opens Gavin’s mouth wider, thumb pressing down on his tongue until he’s shaking and the muscles in his thighs twitching. 

“I’m going to use you now,” he says, before letting him go and moving his hips to slide down his cock down Gavin’s open, waiting mouth. 

Gavin doesn’t even have the time to say ‘yes, yes please’ before Kamski is already doing it. It feels like heaven. It’s perfect. It’s hot and heavy and so, so wet. Kamski moves forward until Gavin’s nose is against his navel and rests there, testing how long he can keep him like that. Gavin shivers and fights the intrusion for a moment, unable to breathe, struggling and gagging before accepting that he won’t be able to draw breath until Kamski decides he can.

Both of his hands scramble for Kamski’s hips to hold on for dear life as his eyes roll back, the thumping of his heart audible in his ears, blood pumping so hard it’s overwhelming. It’s not until his body starts to twitch that Kamski eases him off of his cock so he can breathe. Gavin blinks, dazed, mouth still wide open as he breathes desperately. He wants to pull away and catch his breath more, but Kamski’s cock is right there, nice and wet, and he decides that _fuck breathing_ , he’s got this.

He moves forward and goes down on him in one go and that earns him another sigh— one that makes him moan, a gurgling sound that stops at his throat because there’s no air for it.

He loves it. He loves it even more when Kamski lets go of his hair so he can pet it, like one would a good pet. The thought of it makes almost makes him cum. He shivers as he notices again how hard he is, how needy he is.

He moves back and tongues the head, lips pulling back the foreskin so he can taste him better, suckling on it and tonguing the drooling slit of his cock. That earns him another sigh, a more stuttering sound. He does it again and again and again until Kamski groans and pulls his head to fuck his throat again, truly using him this time, uncaring of his needs. Gavin gets gulps of air whenever he can, closing his eyes and letting himself be used.

“Touch your throat,” Kamski breathes, and Gavin does, wrapping one hand around it and feeling the hard shape of his cock fucking him. His thighs tremble again, the sensation overwhelming to the point where he can feel his cock twitching and steadily drooling precum, soaking his underwear.

“That’s it, just like that,” Kamski moans, and Gavin hazedly wonders if he can feel him too, so he tightens the grip. He can’t breathe, but he doesn’t mind, not when he’s in heaven and about to cum himself. He maintains his grip until Kamski’s hips stutter, only then letting go. He can feel his face hot and wet— is he crying? He’s crying.

There’s hands on his face, on his hair, and then Kamski is repressing a moan, his back arching and keeping Gavin close as he comes in his mouth, the cum hitting the back of his throat. Gavin is grateful for it, and even more grateful that Kamski keeps fucking him until he’s done.

Gavin swallows all of it, swallowing around Kamski’s cock who is still inside his mouth and making him moan for real this time. He shivers as he finally hears him moan, panting and trying to get some air in his lungs.

“You’re trembling,” Kamski comments, a bit out of breath, moving back so he can cradle his face and wipe the tears there. Gavin nods, dazed and out of it. He is. He’s shaking. He doesn’t know why— he doesn’t know if it’s the lack of oxygen, how horny he feels, how humiliated, or how much he loved all of it. 

He swallows again. 

“You were really good, Gavin. Do you want me to fuck you?” 

Does he?

He does.

He’s nodding before he even notices. God, he wants it— he needs it.

“I don’t-” he stutters, sniffling a bit to his shame. “I don’t- I don’t have anything for you to- to fuck me.”

“That’s alright. Up.” Kamski hold him by the shoulders and helps him to his feet. He’s stronger than what Gavin thought he was. He does it without a problem, even when Gavin’s own feet can barely keep him standing.

“The table,” Gavin pants, holding Kamski for dear life. “Fuck me on that table.”

He looks at the metallic table and shivers. 

Yeah.

That’s where it should be.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> A lovely commission work for a friend. Thank you so much for the patience, and I hope you like this!
> 
> If you like my work, come check out my Twitter! https://twitter.com/mq1693


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